


Wait

by hit_the_books



Series: SPN750 Fics [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Era, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hunters & Hunting, Regret, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23575429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: Sam and Dean are on a werewolf hunt and the body count keeps growing.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: SPN750 Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697029
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11
Collections: SPN750





	Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Vamp for running the [SPN750](https://spn750.dreamwidth.org) comm over on Dreamwidth.
> 
> Had fun writing to this week's prompt:
> 
> This week's prompt on [SPN750](https://spn750.dreamwidth.org) is:
> 
> ###  [JUDGMENT](https://spn750.dreamwidth.org/7292.html)
> 
> One prompt. Seven days. 750 words.

There’s a ticking sound that Sam can’t place. It’s been here, in the background of his thoughts, for a while he supposes. His brain has just failed to notice it. Until now.

Sam can no longer ignore the sound. Which is a pain, as he’s meant to be listening for the return of a werewolf while hiding in said werewolf’s closet. An unpleasant stakeout location, he’ll readily admit as he sits in the gloomy light behind heavy dark wood doors.

He kinda wishes he’d won rock, paper scissors and gotten to go looking in the local area—like Dean is doing right now.

_At least Dean’s not having to deal with this smell_ , Sam thinks to himself as he tries to listen while not breathing in the stench. Eau de clothes-from-full-moons-past-that-have-gotten-more-than-a-little-fragrant-over-time.

Sam lets out a long breath through his mouth and tries to ignore the sound of ticking. He forces his ears to pop and tries not to think about how either this werewolf—a guy who’s killed six people so far—is taking their sweet ass time to hunt, or that Dean’s caught up to the werewolf and put a silver bullet in his skull or… that Dean’s caught up with the werewolf and something isn’t right.

Dean sounded fine fifteen minutes ago when he called. They’re not due to check in with each other again for another five minutes, but Sam can’t wait any longer. He pulls his cell out and finds Dean on quick dial. It takes four rings, but finally the call connects.

“Everything okay?” Dean asks, voice full of concern.

“Just… tired of waiting,” Sam says, relief rolling through him.

“Same. I found some tracks but they went through a river and I can’t pick up the trail again.” Dean sighs. “Anything your end?”

Sam’s about to answer, but suddenly hears claws scraping on the side of a door frame. “He’s hear!” Sam whispers and ends the call before stuffing his cell back in his pocket.

It’s automatic, the way he readies his handgun again, silver bullets loaded, safety off, and then makes sure his left hand is wrapped tight around his silver dagger. The ticking sound is long forgotten as he listens to the floorboards of the two floor house creak and squeak. Each step sounds like nails are scratching over the wood.

Muscles tense and ready, Sam imagines each step the werewolf takes so he can be ready to attack. He hopes the stench of the closet will hide him from the monster’s keen nose and that his heart isn’t beating too loudly as he wills himself calm.

It takes moments, but the werewolf reaches the bedroom and growls and snarls. Bones crunching as it does, snapping back into a more human place.

The mattress on the bed pings and bounces as the werewolf, more human now, slumps on top of it. Sam waits a few seconds and then slowly eases the closet door open, gun raised, as he steps out. He carefully places his feet, recalling each board that creaks and gets the werewolf in his sights.

The man has drying mud on his feet with leaves and pine needles stuck to them, blood staining his face, wrecked tan pants and ripped white t-shirt on. It makes Sam feels sick to think that they hadn’t been able to stop him before he found another victim to eat.

Whenever people die while they’re working a case, Sam berates himself for not stopping the monster before another body drops.

_You're finished_ , Sam affirms to himself and takes aim as he approaches. There’s no movement from the werewolf, bar the rising and sinking of his chest. Sam readies the dagger first, shifting the grip on his handgun and then swoops his right hand down, blade aiming at the werewolf’s spine.

The werewolf shivers awake, a yell on its lips, but Sam twists the blade deeper and whatever scream was forming, dies in the werewolf’s throat. Instead he gurgles blood as he dies, twitching on his filthy pillows.

Sam pulls the dagger out of the dead werewolf and tries to clean it on the sheets. He palms his cell and calls Dean.

It’s routine now: wrapping up the body, ready to take for burning far away from authority eyes. Sam tries hard to ignore the smell as he covers the body in the soiled sheets, ready for Dean to help him carry it.

There’s a loud rattle and the ticking noise stops.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on Pillowfort at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://www.pillowfort.social/dreamsfromthebunker), Dreamwidth at [hit_the_books](https://hit-the-books.dreamwidth.org/), Tumblr at [hitthebooksposts](https://hitthebooksposts.tumblr.com/).


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